Chapter 76
Seventy-Six
E ven though I arrive early at the Chapel of the Chimes, the only Oakland facility large enough to accommodate the mourners streaming into Terry’s funeral, it’s already packed.
I wonder how many people here actually knew him and aren’t just fans.
I walk toward the imposing structure and find the fountain in the front, spotting Kendra.
Like me, she’s wearing a black, knee-length dress. Her hair is longer and in a new style.
Our eyes meet, and mine instantly well. We fall into each other’s embrace, clutching tightly. I’ve missed her and never expected to reunite over something tragic. It’s bittersweet. We pull apart, our hands connecting.
“Despite this fucked-up situation, you look amazing,” I say.
“And you’re still a fine-ass white girl,” she answers, and we share wan smiles. “Let me see that ring.”
I lift my hand.
“You better hang onto that man. That’s exquisite, Jacqui, and so perfect for you.”
“I know,” I murmur, but it’s hard to be excited about this with grief hanging so heavy between us. I sniff, reaching for the travel pack of tissues in my pocket. “You ready for this?”
Kendra tries to speak and chokes on a sob. “Nope. But we’ve got no choice.”
“Let’s get in there and find a seat before we’re stuck in standing room only.” I silently hand her a tissue.
We infiltrate the throng, scanning for open seats in the towering chapel. A dominating stained-glass scene looms behind the pulpit. We make it midway and push into a pew, then clasp hands tightly.
My gaze flits, panning the crowd, trying to study the pews around us. It’s impossible with the constant motion of people standing, sitting, or squeezing into seats.
I know what I’m doing, who I’m looking for, but I can’t make myself stop.
And then a flash of copper halts my breath.
The light hits Remy’s hair as people shift enough for me to catch it. The sight of him barrels into me.
In a blink, he turns.
His eyes land on me.
We share a moment frozen in time, and I feel it…the caress of his gaze, warm and something else. Damn, he looks good.
He offers a subtle smile, but I don’t return it.
Despite the electricity flowing between us, I’m still hurt and fucking angry.
His lips fall, and my eyes naturally gravitate to the seats beside him.
His wife Sherry sits to his left. The crowd moves again and another head swivels my way with purpose.
Mick.
Our eyes collide and stick. My heart thunders and my chest floods as we stare for a full minute.
Surprise. Marvel. Regret. Reality.
His head tilts, providing a better view. His hair is short. He’s freshly shaved. Suit lapels visible. The whole getup is likely giving him hives. His cryptic smile morphs into a warm one and I freely give one back .
The organ music begins, and Mick’s eyes leave mine to face the front. I’ve got a firm grip on Kendra’s hand, and she’s more than happy to be my anchor in this storm.
The service starts, full of biblical excerpts, hymns, religious platitudes about death and resurrection, and somber remembrances by family, friends, players, and coaches.
It’s followed by Terry’s burial in the adjacent Mountain View Cemetery, which most attend, and where I catch a heart-fueling glimpse of Jeremy and Vinny, other members of our ragtag friend group.
But the finality of Terry’s shiny black casket, next to the freshly dug hole where he’ll remain, snaps the last tether of my control, and I’m wracked with sobs.
As we make our way to the reception, my pulse rapid fires, roaring in ears as my nerve endings crackle with trepidation.
This is where I’ll come face to face with Mick and Remy—possibly for the final time in my life.
Then again, I never expected to see them again, and here we are.
The universe has a cruel sense of humor at times.
Am I tempting fate?
Kendra and I detour to the ladies’ room to spruce up, our waterproof mascara unable to do the kind of heavy lifting required today.
And do I care what I look like? Undeniably so.
Look what you passed up, boys. Look and weep.
God, I’m pathetic.
Mourners pack the reception hall, with people vying to fill their plates at the extensive buffet or already sitting and talking. Their mingled murmurs sound like a roar in my ears.
“I’m going to get in line,” Kendra says, motioning to the buffet.
Sweat trickles down my back. “I need some air. I’ll come find you.”
I’m not four feet into the hallway when a hand touches my forearm.
“Jacqui, wait.”
I whirl, coming face to face with blue eyes under cropped copper hair, and my body goes rigid.
“How are you?” Remy asks.
I have fifty retorts but can’t summon one.
“Are you…are you upset with me?”
My scoff is harsh. “Remy, you cut me off without a word. One minute, we loved each other, the next, it was as if I didn’t exist. And now you just want to, I don’t know…shoot the shit, make small talk, swap pleasantries?”
His face contorts.
“You treated me like trash. Literal trash…” My eyes water. “After everything we shared? After what we…” I swallow. “Why?”
His gaze shifts to the floor before meeting mine. “I was really fucked up back then. For a long time.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I treated everyone who mattered like shit. You never deserved that.”
Fire blazes through me. “You hurt me. And you destroyed Mick and me.”
He winces. “I know,” he admits. “If I could go back in time and change it, I would. I’m so fucking sorry, Jacqui.”
I shrug and look away. Sorry just doesn’t cut it.
“I don’t blame you if you don’t want to talk to me. But I hope you can forgive me one day. I’m trying to be a better man. It’s part of my recovery.”
I soften a tad, and my gaze swings back to his. “Are you clean?”
His sapphire eyes radiate sincerity. “Coming up on two years. ”
“Good. If today was any reminder, it’s that any of us—especially you—could be in that casket.”
Remy squeezes his eyes tight.
“And you’re happy? Happily married?” I can’t disguise my interest.
A slow grin crosses his face. “Yeah.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe it either. “I wound up marrying my best friend.”
That stings more than I expect. “Then I guess it was all for the good.”
“And you?” He glances at my left hand. “You find a decent one?”
My own smile unfurls. “The best.”
Remy holds out his hand. “So…friends? Or at least off the shit list?”
Fuck. Maybe it’s the severity of the day, his stupid apology, or the part of me that’s genuinely relieved he’s clean, but I take his hand. “Not enemies,” I offer. Because friendship is a stretch.
“I’ll take it.”
He squeezes my hand and returns to the reception. A minute later, I straighten my shoulders and follow.
A few steps in, I bump into someone and spin to find Remy’s wife. Her light brown hair is styled into a flattering blunt cut with bangs.
“Oof, I’m sorry,” she says, extending a hand. “I’m Sherry, Remy’s wife. You’re the famous Jacqui, right?”
“Um…yes?” I answer, shaking it. Her big hazel eyes are assessing, but not cold, and damn if she isn’t pretty in a wholesome, girl-next-door way.
“Remy and Mick have talked about you for years .”
They have? The warmth spreading through me like honey is undeniable. It’s quickly doused by a flash of resentment. “We were really close.” And because of you, we aren’t .
Wrong , I internally scold. Remy is the only one to blame here.
“It’s nice to finally put a face with the name,” she says.
Sherry clearly doesn’t know the extent of my relationship with Mick and Remy, or I doubt she’d say that. Why does she have to be so sweet? The petty brat in me wants to dislike her but the truth is, under different circumstances, we might even be friends. Remy doesn’t deserve her.
“It’s great meeting you too,” I say.
“Well, nature calls.” She chuckles, then places a hand over her belly, which reveals its slight protrusion. “We’re expecting our first child, and I swear I’m peeing every five minutes.”
“ Oh. Co…congratulations,” I sputter.
“We’ve got a table in the back. Come sit with us.” We share a smile as she hurries off.
I find myself behind Leland in the buffet line and give him a long hug. He’s known Terry since they were kids, and grief is etched indelibly in his tear-stained eyes.
After I fill a plate, Kendra waves me over as a few recognizable men bellow my name. It’s the old gang and they’re all smiles as I head toward them.
One by one, I’m hugged and welcomed.
“Bella!” Vinny greets me, swallowing me in an embrace. “Don’t mind the fluffification,” he jokes, patting his expanded middle as we part. “My wife likes it.”
“I do?” the very pregnant woman at his left says before Vinny introduces us. We share a knowing smile.
Jeremy’s next, lifting me off my feet.
“You a congressman yet?” I ask. His once perfectly feathered hair is now gelled and styled in line with his political aspirations, and an impeccable navy suit hugs his frame.
“State senator, baby. I see the years have done nothing but make you more gorgeous.” He sets me down.
My smile stretches wide. “Still single and devastating all the ladies? ”
“Unless you want to finally give me some of that.” He blatantly checks me out top to bottom, always the flirt.
I slap him on the chest and roll my eyes, but underneath, I’m vibrating from Mick’s nearness, aware he’s biding his time, watching and waiting.
His chair drags along the floor as he stands, and our eyes clash. His absorbing gray irises send ripples through me. His gaze rakes down my body and lands on my left hand. Sorrow or pain tinged with grief swim in those memorable eyes before he schools his features.
We embrace, and his ocean scent wafts around me like nothing has changed. Only everything has.
“Hey Jax,” he murmurs.
Thump thump. It’s been years since anyone called me that, and truthfully, that name belongs to him. “Mick,” I breathe.
We part, I think both torn between wanting and hating to let go.
“You look well,” he says, then blows out a laugh. “Fucking great, actually.”
“Thank you. You?—”
…also look amazing, like the motherfucker you’ve always been.
Do not get Micknotized. Do not get Micknotized. Do not get Micknotized .
“…too,” I add lamely.
He dips his chin toward my hand. “Engaged?”
I nod, my emotions rioting.
“I’m not surprised.” He opens his mouth as if to say more, then stops himself.
My eyes scan his hand and come up empty. “No one’s stolen your heart yet?”
He stares at me for one molten moment. “I think we both know one woman did.”
Thump. Thump thump. Thump thump thump. “You were stupid to let her get away. ”
He nods slowly, thoughtfully. “Agreed.”
I’m relieved our friends aren’t listening to us. Mick and I have gotten shockingly intimate—and honest—in just a few sentences. My heart thumps erratically, traitorously.
Mick breaks the spell, motioning to two chairs. “Tell me about the great things you’re doing in the world. I want to hear it all.”
“I think we all do,” Remy echoes.
I start my recap, glancing at each person around the table.
Remy and Sherry, Vinny and Stephanie, Jeremy, Mick, and Kendra.
It evolves into each of us providing updates on our lives, reminiscing, and sharing Terry stories.
There’s laughter, good-natured ribbing, the poignant, familiar reminder these individuals are my first true family—the ones who made me whole, gave me life, and bestowed gifts too numerous to count.
The crowd thins as the reception comes to a close. We stand after two hours of reuniting. It’s natural, intimate, soul-fueling. Terry would approve, despite the circumstances. I gaze fondly upon these four men who grew up playing Young America baseball with their pal, Terry, friends until the end.
Remy grips Mick and Jeremy each on the shoulder. “Let’s go say goodbye to Terry’s parents.”
The guys nod in unspoken agreement, and the two wives squeeze their husbands’ hands and walk toward the exit, leaving the remaining six of us to say our goodbyes.
We start the rounds, and it’s surprisingly difficult.
When it’s Remy turn, he hugs me tight, and I don’t miss Mick’s gaze fastened on us. I get a hit of nicotine and it damn near transports me to 1982.
“It’s done my heart good to see you, Jacqui,” Remy murmurs. “That you’re flourishing, doing this writing stuff you always wanted, and living a good life. It’s...” He releases me, tapping a hand against his chest. “It’s awesome. ”
Seeing you healed something inside me too. I blink the emotion away.
“I’m grateful I didn’t drag you down with all my bullshit,” he adds, his head cocking in his signature way. “I’m clearly a selfish prick consumed with my own shit. But I really am sorry.”
“I appreciate that,” I manage. “I’ve hated hating you all these years. You were one of my favorite people…and one of the most important in my life.”
Remy’s throat works.
“I’m relieved you’re doing well too. And about to be a damn father.” I shake my head. Watch out, world.
“Weird, right?”
“Rem?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fuck it up, okay?”
He snorts, salutes.
And that leaves Mick.
Saying goodbye to him is the hardest of all.
His gray pools find my amber, holding them captive like they always have. He’s still so fucking handsome, still has some claim on this stupid contraption beating in my chest.
“I’m so proud of you, Jax. For pursuing your dream and embracing a new life far from here. I’ve only ever wanted you to thrive and seeing you the way you are now brings me a sense of…peace.”
“I feel it too, about you—and Remy. It’s given me closure, healing, whatever’s been missing.” I’m grappling for the right words. “I gave you my heart and it’s been hard to repair it. Really hard. I wasn’t even sure at times that I could.”
He looks anguished. I’m guessing it was similar for him.
“All I want is for you to find your happiness. You deserve it, and you need to stop fighting it. Let yourself have a good life full of love, Mick.”
He pauses. “I won’t make you any promises, but I’ll try. Seeing you gives me hope that maybe that is in the cards after all.”
“You’re too good of a human being not to share your heart with someone.”
He drops his head for a few seconds, then nods. He won’t allow it to become morose or debate the merits of what he deserves…I know where he stands. Instead, he shoots me classic Mick.
“Live large. Kick ass. Keep shining, beautiful.”
We hold each other close, and all the little fissures in my heart knit together. I breathe in his touch, scent, and body I’ve gotten lost in, allowing myself to experience it one more time…and let it go.
Today bestowed unexpected dividends: healing, a full-circle revolution, and a potent reminder of those who loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself.
There’s only one place now I want to be.